


The Locket

by jay_iven72



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Death, Good Regulus Black, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), POV First Person, Torture, Violence, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:07:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27403255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jay_iven72/pseuds/jay_iven72
Summary: I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more.That's the thing about men like you and I, Tom, us men who laugh with our mouths but not our eyes. We deserve the mercy in death.--Regulus Black's final letter to Tom Riddle, spinning the final tale of death, betrayal and the fine line they dance between light and dark.--
Kudos: 3





	The Locket

I know that I will be dead long before you read this, but I wish you to know that it was I who discovered your secret.

I know everything.

Of the little boy with black hair, ashen skin and darker eyes. How he strung that white rabbit from the rafters, slashed twice across the neck, on the tips of his toes. Of Jack Fisher, who danced—a marionette- across these white cliffs.

You brought him here, didn’t you, Tom? You took their warm, pliable hands between your own, dragged them to the cliff face and smiled. Did you tell them to jump, or did you push?

Does it matter? They didn’t land.

They are long gone now, fled away to Europe with your memory tainting each breath and with them so too vanished the orphanage.

It burnt well, all dry wood and rotting hangings, bending in into itself as it collapsed. I can still taste the smoke on my lips. Its lingering in a thick bile at the back of my throat, behind my teeth and under my tongue. It was smoke that rose in dirty great plumes, painting streets a haze. It smouldered away until all that remained was a glowing skeleton.

Even in embers, it _stank_ of you.

Perhaps, if I were not about to die, I could the appreciate the cyclical nature of life. The irony that I end just where I began. In flames.

**Author's Note:**

> Due to the narrative style, chapters are not written to a certain length and could vary between 50 and 5000 words, if that bothers you feel free to check back in a year when its all finished.   
> This is just some fun and destressing for me, writing around a very stressful college course and job, so please don't expect this to be regularly updated. I will not give up on it, however do not have a schedule for uploading. Hope you enjoy.


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